


Rookery Hall

by fredbassett



Series: Stephen/Ryan series [44]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen is whisked away for some much needed recuperation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You have reached your destination,” announced the satellite navigation system, with its usual hint of smugness.

Ryan turned to his sleeping passenger and placed his hand lightly on Stephen’s arm. “Wakey, wakey, Briar Rose.”

“Hmph?” Stephen shifted slightly in his seat and opened a pair of very blue, and very bleary, eyes.

His face was still far paler than Ryan would have liked, and even though Ditzy had assured him, several times, that Stephen was fit enough for a two hour journey by car, he’d still had his doubts.

The last month had been one long nightmare for Ryan. A week after their return from the Jurassic following an escapade involving an anomaly in a motorway tunnel in South Wales which had led them into the Jurassic, Stephen had started to run a high temperature. A day later, he’d very rapidly developed a headache, nausea, sweating and severe abdominal pains. The day after that, he’d been in intensive care, hooked up to more drips, feeds and monitors than Ryan had ever seen before.

The culprit, as far as they had been able to tell, had been some sort of biting insect, which had obviously taken a particular liking to Stephen Hart. The symptoms were similar, but not identical to malaria, which had provided a convenient cover story for the hospital. After some experimentation, and not before Stephen had been pronounced dangerously ill, a combination of malaria treatments had started to prove effective. Ryan had remained at his lover’s side, refusing to leave until he’d known that Stephen was out of danger.

After a day and a half, even the unholy trinity of Lyle, Ditzy and Cutter had given up trying to get him to go home, and after that, they – and the nurses – had simply given up and let him remain beside Stephen’s bed, sleeping in a chair and snacking on sandwiches and cups of coffee that tasted more like mud than any actual beverage.

Stephen’s condition had remained touch and go for the best part of a week, but then the cocktails of drugs being pumped into his system had started to get the upper hand, and gradually, his temperature had started to fall, even though the vomiting and diarrhoea had continued. Finally, even that had been brought under control and eventually, Ryan had heard the magic words, ‘He’s out of danger.’

Even so, a two week stay in hospital had followed, although at least by then Ryan had been willing to make the occasional visit home, and to work. Fortunately, they had hit a quiet patch with the anomalies, leaving Lester and Cutter free to argue over the final details of their move to the project’s new HQ, which was eventually nearing completion after some titanic struggles between the indefatigable Claudia Brown and the increasingly truculent contractors. According to Lyle, Lester’s temper was now on a hair-trigger to match the professor’s, and if the pair of them managed to refrain from coming to blows, it would be nothing short of a miracle. Even the usually laid-back lieutenant was starting to feel the strain. He’d been declaring last night that even a return to Bagdad might be preferable to another night listening to Lester’s bitching.

However, in spite of all that, Lester had been remarkably accommodating on the subject of Ryan’s abrupt leave of absence, much to the captain’s surprise. He’d even sanctioned an additional week off so Ryan could oversee Stephen’s convalescence.

Ryan smiled and brushed his lover’s dark hair back from his forehead.

“Stop taking my temperature,” grumbled Stephen, struggling upright in the car seat, and staring out of the window. “Where the hell are we, Ryan?”

“On holiday,” offered the soldier, unhelpfully.

Stephen’s eyes widened as a young man wearing a smart grey uniform walked down the steps of an enormous country house and opened the passenger seat door, with a smiling, “Welcome to Rookery Hall.”

And that answered that question, thought Ryan, watching with amusement as Stephen unfolded his long body out of the front seat and stared around him, wide blue eyes taking in the imposing frontage of the hotel, covered in a warm blush of Virginia Creeper. The younger man stared at the mock Doric pillars on either side of the oak-panelled doors his gaze finally settling on the sweeping view over immaculate lawns, flanked with high, perfectly clipped yew hedges, which led down to a wide expanse of lake, reflecting the deep blue of the mid-morning sky.

A low whistle of appreciation fell from Stephen’s lips.

The doorman grinned and held his hand out for Ryan’s car keys. “Your bags will be brought up to your room, sir.”

Ryan smiled and parted with his keys.

When Stephen had finished admiring the view, Ryan slipped an arm round his lover’s waist and together they walked up the steps. He felt Stephen tense for a moment at the open display of affection in such surroundings, but he kept his arm in place, providing a measure of support as Stephen stumbled slightly, his legs obviously weak from the journey. His lover cursed under his breath, but didn’t draw away from Ryan’s arm, accepting the help, even though his own weakness clearly frustrated him.

A second uniformed man swept the double doors open for them and ushered them into a reception area, where soft lighting warmed the dark wood panelling of the walls. Ryan half expected to see stuffed pheasants and deer’s heads adorning the walls, but instead he found tasteful, surprisingly modern pictures. Displays of white, green and pale yellow flowers were arrayed at intervals between comfortable green baize armchairs decked with plump tapestry-work cushions.

A smiling woman dressed in a black skirt, white blouse and black waistcoat came out from behind a mahogany desk. “Captain Ryan and Dr Hart? It’s lovely to have you with us. Your room is ready for you. It’s on the first floor, overlooking the lake. I hope you’ll find everything to your liking. Joe will take you there.”

Ryan felt some of the tension start to thaw out of Stephen’s over-thin body at the warmth of the woman’s welcome. He returned her smile. “Thanks.”

A small, wizened old man with a face like a friendly monkey bobbed into view from round a corner. He nodded his head vigorously at Ryan and Stephen then darted back into the corridor. They followed him, at Stephen’s pace. Joe cast a look back over his shoulder and promptly led them to a lift, discreetly concealed between two monstrously large aspidistras. He opened the doors, ushered them inside with a smile and a wave of his hand, then hopped back out, and disappeared, as the doors were closing.

Ryan felt Stephen sag against him, even the short walk up the steps and into the hotel clearly having taken its toll. He pressed a soft kiss onto his lover’s clammy forehead and whispered, “Not far now, darling.”

Stephen smiled, and muttered, “Christ, Ryan, I dread to think what this place is costing.”

The soldier grinned. “Thank Lester, not me. This is at taxpayers’ expense. Courtesy of a grateful nation.”

Stephen’s eyebrows shot up, practically meeting his hairline. “He said that?”

Ryan chuckled. “No, that was my translation. And the owner is a cousin of Mary Mitchell’s, so you can bet your bottom dollar the canny old sod did a deal of some sort.”

The lift smoothly reached its destination, and the doors slid open, to reveal Joe bobbing up and down outside, with a wide, infectious smile on his wrinkled face. They followed him down a corridor, wood-panelled like the rest of the interior, and into a room which bore the words, ‘Lake Room’ on a small brass plaque on the door.

Joe waved his hand expansively, bobbed and smiled a few more times, then dashed back out again, leaving them standing in the middle of the nicest hotel room that Ryan had experienced in his life, containing the largest bed that he had ever seen.

“Bloody hell,” breathed Stephen, staring at the same thing. “You could hold a party in that and still have room for a rugby team around the sides.”

Ryan slid both arms around his lover’s slim waist and pulled Stephen in for a gentle hug. “I’ll have to send a search party out if I want a cuddle in the night.”

Stephen rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “Good job I’m an experienced tracker.”

“You’re going to get waited on, hand, foot and finger, sweetie. According to Mary, they’ve got a spa here, with an indoor pool, a sauna, health club, the works. And we’re here for as long as it bloody takes for you to feel human again.”

A wide smile lit Stephen’s face. “It could take a while.”

Ryan brushed a gentle kiss across dry lips. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Now get your shoes off and lie down on that bed, and I’ll see what I can do about organising some drinks.”

A soft knock on the door forestalled any further conversation. Ryan called, “Come in.”

The door opened to admit Joe, carrying their bags, and a girl in her teens, who bore a distinct resemblance to the woman in reception, carrying a tray of tea, coffee and biscuits, which she placed on a table by the window, flanked by two very comfortable-looking armchairs.

“Is there anything else I can get you, gentlemen?” she asked.

Ryan shook his head. “That looks lovely, thanks.”

“Food can be served any time you want,” she offered. “Either here, or in the dining room. There are menus in the room. The mini-bar is stocked, and I can bring anything you’d like up from the bar downstairs. Just ring reception if there’s anything you need.”

As she left the room, Ryan was immensely thankful that Mary Mitchell, the co-owner of the hotel in the Forest of Dean which had found itself taken over as the Home Office’s centre of operations in the area, had told him that Rookery Hall operated a strict no tipping policy, preferring to pay its staff a decent wage, rather than rely on gratuities from visitors. This sort of establishment was well outside Ryan’s normal sphere of experience, but Mary had reassured him that he would find the staff both friendly and unobtrusive, and he was beginning to realise what she meant.

Stephen toed his shoes off and made his way over to one of the armchairs, rather than the bed. He sat with his feet tucked up under him, like a child, staring out of a floor-to-ceiling window, which opened out onto a small balcony, taking in the view of the lake. “Gorgeous,” he muttered, contentedly, watching a pair of black swans come in to make a graceful landing on the water. “Lester’s played a blinder with this one. Maybe the bastard does have a heart, after all.”

Ryan grinned. “Lyle said it’s his way of getting revenge on the taxpayer for wishing the worst Home Secretary in the history of British politics on him.”

“That good?”

“Apparently so. According to Jon, she’s started to take a ‘personal interest’ in the project. Lester’s taking it as some sort of insult. Apparently, she’s threatening to come and cut the ribbon when the new research centre opens.”

Stephen’s eyes opened wide with delight. “Ribbons? Lester and Cutter making speeches? That I’ve got to see.”

“Don’t worry, it’s a way off yet, and we’ll be back in time for that. They’re fitting out the interior at the moment and the furniture supplier has just gone bust. Another cross for the saintly Claudia to bear.”

“I bet she wasn’t so saintly when she heard that.”

“Lyle claimed she swore as badly as Finn when he’s just been chucked out of a pub. Says it brought a blush to his maidenly cheeks.”

“I’d like to have heard that,” grinned Stephen, accepting the cup of tea Ryan handed to him. “And she always seems like such a nice girl.”

“I’ve seen her snogging Cutter, she’s not that nice.” Ryan snagged a shortbread biscuit off the tray and settled back in the other armchair, pleased to see a small amount of colour creeping back into Stephen’s cheeks.

“Have you heard what they’re calling the place?”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah. The ARC. Asking for trouble. Abby’ll take that as carte blanche to fill the bloody place with refugees from the sodding Permian, or wherever. There’s a holding pen big enough to take a mammoth, according to Jon.”

“Cutter’ll be pleased. He’s been itching for a chance to study what we’ve been finding. Maybe now he’ll finally get the chance to be a zoologist again.”

“What about you?”

Stephen rested his head on the back of the chair. “Yes. It’ll make a nice change from just running around the countryside like headless chickens. And if Connor ever gets that gizmo he’s working on up and running, we might actually have a chance of discovering anomalies before something comes through to cause havoc.”

“Do you reckon he will?”

Stephen shrugged. “The lad’s bloody bright, so if anyone’s got a change of rigging up something to give us early warning of anomaly appearance, it’s him. If he can keep his mind on one thing long enough, that is.” He yawned and stretched like a cat. “You were saying something about bed?”

Ryan smiled, and reached down to haul him out of the chair. “I’ll join you in a minute. I’m just going to grab a quick shower.”

A hint of mischief danced in Stephen’s eyes. “No wanking where I can’t watch, soldier boy.” His hands grasped Ryan’s, and he allowed himself to be led over to the bed.

With gentle fingers, Ryan undid the buttons on Stephen’s shirt, slipping it off over shoulders that lacked their usual muscle definition. He nuzzled at the triangle of dark hair on Stephen’s chest, his lips tracking lower to suckle delicately at first one nipple, then the other. It was the first proper sexual contact they’d had since Stephen’s illness, and Ryan felt his dick start to harden. Stephen reached up to run his hands through Ryan’s hair, while the soldier turned his attention to undoing his lover’s belt, flipping the button on his jeans open, running the zipper down, and then sliding jeans and underwear down over his hips to pool at his feet.

There was no disguising the fact that Stephen had lost far more weight than he could afford to shed, leaving his usually lean frame sparse to the point of gauntness. Ryan placed a kiss on each hipbone, noting, with a small twist in his stomach, that Stephen’s cock remained limp.

He straightened up and kissed Stephen’s forehead. “Fall asleep if you want to, darling. We’ve got all the time in the world.” He turfed a few of the obligatory bed cushions onto the floor, peeled back the fluffy white duvet and let Stephen side gratefully onto crisp cotton sheets, with a small sigh of satisfaction. Ryan drew the duvet up around his shoulders, placed another kiss on a pale cheek, and then started to shed his own clothes.

As an afterthought, he grabbed a white towelling bathrobe from behind the bathroom door and popped his head out into the corridor for long enough to turn round the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door.

The bathroom was another sight for sore eyes. Gleaming white tiles from floor to ceiling, a bath big enough for the rugby team to wallow in when they’d finished rolling around in the bed, and a shower large enough to take several prop-forwards at once. Oh yes, the bathroom definitely had possibilities for when Stephen took his first faltering steps on the road to recovery.

The huge shower head pelted warm water down onto his body, washing away the stiffness of the drive. The memory of Stephen’s nipples hardening to pebbles under the ministrations of his lips and tongue brought another sort of stiffness along with it, and without thinking, he ran one soapy hand along his hardening flesh. Christ, it had been a long time since he’d had a wank. He couldn’t off-hand remember when. Certainly not since Stephen had been taken ill. They’d been too busy for much in the way of personal time since their return from a trip through the Welsh motorway anomaly. Christ, it had probably been at least five weeks since he’d got his end away.

His cock twitched and unconsciously he thrust up into his own hand, his head falling back, letting water stream down his face and chest. Then Stephen’s words came back to mind, and reluctantly, he went back to washing the sweat from his body, ignoring the demands of his heavy dick. Stephen had said no wanking, and Ryan would do his best to comply, but if he went back out and found Stephen had dozed off, he might be very tempted to disobey orders on this particular occasion.

Five minutes later, a towel round his waist and rubbing at his hair with another, Ryan padded back into the bedroom, enjoying the feel of the thick, burgundy-coloured carpet under his toes.

Far from being asleep, Stephen was propped up against a pile of pillows in the middle of the massive bed. “I was beginning to think you’d started without me, mate.”

Ryan grinned, and let the towel fall to the floor, revealing his still half-hard cock. “Want a beer?”

“A few mouthfuls won’t hurt. I’ve forgotten what the bloody stuff tastes like.”

“Does it mix with your tablets?” The mini-bar, discreetly hidden inside a large, mahogany cabinet, which also contained everything needed to make tea and coffee in the room if they wanted, was certainly well stocked. There was even a bottle of decent champagne.

“Ditzy said don’t go mad on the booze, but in moderation, yes. I’ll share yours, if you don’t mind.”

Ryan poured the beer into a glass, then took it over to the bed, snatching up the towel he’d dropped to rub the last of the water off his short hair. Stephen pulled the duvet back, invitingly, and Ryan sprawled out next to him.

“Christ, it’ll be like sleeping in the middle of a cricket pitch!” He reached over and snagged the beer glass, offering it first to Stephen, who took two mouthfuls, obviously savouring the taste, before handing it back. Ryan let the cold liquid slide down his throat as he lounged back against the mound of pillows and stared around him in appreciation. “How the other half lives, Hart.”

Stephen grinned. “It’s certainly recuperating in style. Should we send Lester a postcard?”

“Nope, the bugger might have second thoughts about the expense. How are you feeling?”

“Knackered, but I don’t feel like sleeping. I kipped all the way up here.”

“You were asleep before we hit the motorway.”

“I was asleep before we reached the end of your road, if you must know.”

“So what do you want to do? Do you want me to get them to send some papers or magazines up?”

Stephen settled himself back against the pillows and shook his head.

“Then what do you want to do?” Ryan’s voice was soft and teasing.

“I want to watch you wank.”

His lover’s words pooled heat in his belly and sent another rush of blood to his cock.

Stephen’s grin widened, and he pulled the duvet back, leaving Ryan’s body fully exposed to his sight. Ryan dropped a hand down to groin, running his fingers lightly over himself. His dick continued to harden.

Stephen ran his tongue round his lips and murmured, “Christ, that’s a sight I’ve missed.

“You can look, but you can’t touch,” smiled Ryan. “You’re meant to be resting.”

“Do I look like I’m exerting myself?”

“You look like a wet dream, if you must know.” Ryan glanced down. His dick was hard and leaking. He hoped Mary had been right when she’d told him the staff were discreet. He also hoped they were understanding on the subject of stains.

The slow drift of his own hand continued to awaken pleasure in all his nerve endings. Ryan could feel Stephen blue eyes on him, burning like ice. He spread his legs slightly and reached down to cup his own balls, rolling them under his palm, dipping to draw run one finger around behind them, rubbing at the sensitive skin there for a moment, before sliding his fingers back up, from root to tip.

He watched a bead of pearly fluid gather at the slit, then caught it on the tip of one finger and reached out to Stephen, who promptly flicked his tongue out, like a snake’s, licking it off.

“Mmm, nice …”

Ryan curled his fingers around himself and started to tug at his cock. He kept it slow, wanting to make this last, but he knew that was a vain hope. It had been too long, and he was still strung too tight after the last few weeks for this to be anything other than a short-lived pleasure. But the warmth in Stephen’s eyes told him that it didn’t matter.

The vein on the underside of his cock was starting to throb. The soldier teased gently at the sensitive bundle of nerves just underneath the ridge, and felt heat starting to spread low in his body. His balls were showing tell-tale signs of drawing up. In attempt to stave off impending orgasm, he gripped himself firmly at the base of his shaft, and tried to breathe deeply, his eyes falling shut with the effort of not coming.

“Let it go, soldier boy,” murmured Stephen, his voice low and husky. “Let it go. I want to watch you come - now.”

Ryan’s eyes jerked open and found themselves captured by Stephen’s cornflower blue gaze. A rosy flush had suffused his lover’s cheeks, banishing the pasty white of the journey, and Stephen was moistening dry lips with the pink tip of his tongue. Heat swelled and burst and Ryan was coming hard. The tension of the past five weeks exploded out of him in long ropes of thick, milky fluid, which settled and pooled on the taut hardness of his belly as Ryan thrust up into his own fist, gasping and panting.

“Christ, that was hot,” breathed Stephen, reaching out to rest his own hand on Ryan’s twitching cock. “You look beautiful when you come, have I ever told you that, baby?”

Ryan let his head fall back on the pillows, as he answered, “Just once or twice, but don’t let me stop you saying it again, Hart.”

Stephen gave a low, throaty chuckle, and Ryan felt his lover shift position, shuffling further down in the bed, to lean his head on Ryan’s chest. Another wriggle took him lower still, and Ryan felt a warm tongue start to lap at the sticky mess on his stomach.

He reached his hand out and ruffled Stephen’s dark hair. “Carry on, sweetie, you need the calories.”

“It’s meant to be good for the complexion,” commented Stephen, indistinctly, as he suckled at Ryan’s rapidly softening dick, seemingly intent on cleaning up every drop of come.

“Certainly works for you,” said Ryan, with a chuckle, doing his best to ignore the fact that even watching him reach an explosive climax hadn’t been enough to bring Stephen to hardness.

His lover looked up, displaying the uncanny telepathy that allowed Ryan no hiding place. “Stop worrying. I’m not. Ditzy said it might take a while.”

“You’ve been discussing erections with Ditzy?”

Stephen’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You’d be amazed at the advice he doles out at times.”

Ryan groaned. “I wouldn’t. Believe me, lover boy, I wouldn’t.”

Then for once in his life, he followed orders and stopped worrying, allowing the gentle caress of Stephen’s tongue on his stomach to take him to a place beyond words, where sensation was all that mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

Stephen came awake gradually in the gigantic bed, stretching and enjoying the feel of the cotton sheets against his skin. He reached out with his arm, but the noise of running water in the bathroom was enough to tell him his quest was in vain.

He felt pleasantly refreshed after sleep for the first time since he’d fallen ill, which made a very welcome change. He’d almost forgotten what a decent night’s rest felt like. Something else he’d almost forgotten claimed his attention a moment later. The pressure on his bladder had given him a morning erection, for the first time in several weeks. He ran a hand over his stiff cock and grinned. At least everything down there still seemed to be in working order, which was a relief, in spite of his bravura of the previous night.

Sunlight slanted in through the tall balcony windows, and a light, warm breeze ruffled the gossamer-light net curtains, which Ryan had drawn the previous night to preserve the modesty of anyone walking on the lawns at the front of the hotel. The need for a pee warred with the desire to continue lounging in bed, but the various cups of tea he’d drunk the night before won, hands down. They’d stayed in the bedroom the previous evening, eating a light meal of soup and sandwiches, accompanied by a bowl of the nicest chips Stephen had ever eaten, but he was feeling strong enough this morning to fancy a trip down to the dining room for breakfast.

He slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom to answer the insistent call of nature. Afterwards, the shower looked inviting, and a naked, wet Ryan was not something he had any desire to resist. The soldier welcomed him with a warm wet hug and a kiss, ignoring Stephen’s half-hearted protestation that he’d be letting himself in for a bad dose of morning breath.

Ryan grinned. “It’ll take more than that to put me off, sweetie.”

Gentle arms slid around him, drawing him under the refreshing jets of water. Ryan’s mouth sought his and Stephen closed his eyes and let himself be thoroughly kissed. Soapy hands drifted over his body, gently kneading any knots out of his muscles, finding tension that he hadn’t even realised had been there.

Desire stirred inside him and he reached down, cradling Ryan’s already half-hard cock, enjoying the weight in his hands. A squirt of shower gel slicked his fingers and he slipped behind his lover, encircling him with his arms, and running his fingers up and down Ryan’s length, teasing him quickly to a full hard-on. The soldier gave a low moan of pleasure and, at Stephen’s urging, turned to lean against the tiled wall, resting his head on his arms, allowing him to continue with his ministrations.

Stephen’s own cock obstinately refused to come to full hardness again, but he ignored that in favour of concentrating on giving pleasure to his lover, even though he was already starting to feel more wobbly on his feet than he liked to admit, even to himself. He never ceased to revel in the responsiveness of Ryan’s body. Smooth muscles rippled down sun-bronzed shoulders, inviting the passage of one hand, while the other continued to glide over the silky skin of the soldier’s cock.

A squirt of citrus-smelling shower gel between Ryan’s shoulder blades provided more slickness, and with his right hand, Stephen continued to map the contours of the other man’s body, down a broad back, tapering to a narrow waist and the most gorgeous arse Stephen had ever had the good fortune to get up close and personal with. One soapy finger trailed down Ryan’s crack and pushed at his entrance. Ryan thrust back, impaling himself on Stephen’s finger with a soft sigh of pleasure. Stephen leant his head on Ryan’s shoulders and continued working his left hand up and down the soldier’s cock, putting the slight twist in his grip that he knew was all Ryan needed to drive him very quickly over the edge.

A second slick finger followed the first, crooking forward and rubbing against the small, hard nub inside. Ryan bucked in his grip and an undisguised whine fell from his lips. He was clearly still on a hair-trigger and moments later, Stephen was stroking him through the tremors of an intense orgasm, and watching white ropes of come sliding down the tiles, while his own legs started to tremble with the effort of remaining upright.

“Looks like I’m not the only one having a knee-trembler,” murmured Ryan, turning round and claiming Stephen’s lips in a lazy kiss. “Come on, darling, it’s back to bed for you. I’ll make you some tea then order breakfast.”

“I wanted to go downstairs for breakfast,” said Stephen, employing puppy dog eyes to reinforce the point.

Ryan grinned. “Yes, Cinderella shall go to the ball, but not until you’ve had a cup of tea and another half an hour in bed. Deal?”

“Deal.” And for the next five minutes, he submitted happily to letting Ryan rub him dry with an enormous, fluffy white towel.

The promised half hour in bed was enough to perk him up again. All Stephen needed to do to earn satisfied nods from Ryan was drink the offered tea, and eat a couple of biscuits and his lover seemed to be satisfied with his progress. When Ryan finally agreed to let him get dressed, he pulled on a pair of reasonably smart black jeans, a white shirt and a dark blue linen jacket, which he hoped was enough to pass muster in the dining room. A quick glance in the mirror told him that he still had dark shadows under his eyes, but he’d looked a lot worse recently - he knew that without needing to be told.

They were downstairs at 10 o’clock, and the smartly-dressed waiter assured them that breakfast could be served in the dining room at any time. Ryan took one look at the menu and promptly ordered the full English breakfast, but Stephen didn’t feel up to even the thought of two sausages, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, black pudding, potato cakes and eggs, opting instead for scrambled eggs on toast. Tea and coffee arrived quickly, along with toast, both white and brown slices nestling in a small basket, alongside several slices of freshly-made Irish soda bread.

Ryan promptly spread butter and marmalade on a couple of slices, handing one over to Stephen with a mute plea in his eyes. Stephen laughed and took it, thankful that he’d ordered scrambled eggs, rather than boiled, as he had a nasty feeling that otherwise, Ryan might have insisted on feeding him toast soldiers if his appetite had shown any signs of failing.

The bread tasted homemade, and the marmalade was delicious. Stephen suddenly realised he felt hungry for the first time in weeks. He needed no urging to devour a second slice.

The scrambled eggs when they arrived were light and fluffy, and were soon demolished as well. Under his lover’s watchful eyes, he even agreed to try some sausage and potato cake.

“I’ll know you’ve recovered when you can manage one of these by yourself,” grinned Ryan, gesturing to his own loaded plate.

Stephen laughed, and filched a mushroom, just to keep him happy.

The waiter was attentive. More tea and toast arrived without the need for them to ask and no-one seemed remotely bothered by the time they were taking over their meal. The only other people in the dining room were two ladies, in their sixties, dressed in tweeds, obviously preparing for a walk, and a couple with two young children, who were happily wrangling over the day’s activities their parents were proposing for their entertainment.

Stephen leaned back in his chair feeling pleasantly stuffed. Ryan was right. When he could put away a plateful like that, he’d know he was well along the road to recovery. Although he’d been dubious when he’d first seen Rookery Hall’s imposing frontage, the friendly acceptance they’d met from all the staff so far had done a lot to allay his concerns. Emboldened by a feel of sudden well-being, Stephen reached out and laid his hand on Ryan’s on top of the crisp, white tablecloth. Ryan smiled one of those rare smiles that was for him, and him alone, and rubbed his thumb over Stephen’s knuckles.

The two ladies at the next table stood up, favoured the pair of them with beaming smiles, and left the dining room, exchanging a cheery greeting in the corridor with a member of staff.

A final tiny knot of tension in Stephen’s stomach relaxed and faded away. He was comfortable with his sexuality, but he’d also encountered enough prejudice in his life to make him slightly wary in strange surroundings, and old habits were hard to break. Ryan squeezed his hand gently, as ever alert to Stephen’s concerns, without the need for words. Tears pricked unbidden at Stephen’s eyes. There were times when he wondered what he’d done to deserve this man’s love. They’d been together for just over a year now, working alongside each other, then living together, and Ryan’s presence in his life had brought him a sense of peace with himself that he’d never experienced before. One day, maybe, he’d finally manage to come out from under the shadow that Helen Cutter had cast over his life. And one day, he hoped, he would feel able to come clean to Nick about his youthful indiscretion. Maybe.

Another slight squeeze of Ryan’s hand brought him back to the present. Calm grey eyes regarded him thoughtfully. “Penny for them?”

“They’re not worth that much, I can assure you.”

The soldier raised his eyebrows, but let the subject drop. “An hour’s kip for you then a short walk down to the lake. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me. Are you going for a run?”

“If that’s OK with you?”

Stephen smiled and nodded.

Reception had a selection of newspapers and magazines available. Stephen picked up a Guardian and a copy of Private Eye, then made his way slowly up the stairs, studiously avoiding the lift, even though the walk was enough to make him feel slightly wobbly by the time they reached their room. Sunlight was streaming into the bedroom. Stephen tugged back the net curtains, opened the door to the balcony and settled himself into one of the huge armchairs.

Ryan quickly changed into running shorts and trainers, pulling on a black vest that left little or nothing to the imagination. “I wonder if they’ve got a tradesmen’s entrance I can use?”

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” grinned Stephen, grabbing Ryan’s hand and pulling the soldier down for a kiss. His lover’s lips opened beneath his, Ryan’s tongue slid against his own in a kiss that tasted pleasantly of orange marmalade and coffee.

“Be good,” he muttered against Stephen’s lips, before slipping out of the bedroom with a smile and a wave of his hand.

A few minutes later, he watched Ryan head at a steady pace down the immaculate lawns towards the edge of the lake. A small pang of frustration twisted in his guts, and he wished he was down there, running alongside his lover in the cool morning sun. No point in crying over spilt milk, he told himself, sternly. He would recover his strength, the doctors at the hospital had been adamant about that, and he’d had the same story from Ditzy, but it would be a slow process, and he was under strict orders not to try to rush things if he wanted to make a full recovery. The only problem was that patience was not, and never had been, one of his virtues.

As Ryan passed out of his sight amidst a grove of alder trees by the water’s edge, Stephen picked up the paper and annoyed himself reading the latest in a long line of government scandals, in which Lester’s hated Home Secretary seemed to feature quite prominently. He wondered quite what it took to bring a government minister down these days. Quite a lot, from what he could see, even with the press baying for blood.

After twenty minutes, the paper drooped in his grasp, and he allowed himself the luxury of dozing in the sun. The click of the door lock a while later roused him slightly, and the sight of Ryan’s suntanned torso, glistening with sweat roused him a bit more. The soldier promptly stripped and padded, unselfconsciously naked, over to the small fridge for a bottle of chilled water, which promptly disappeared in three long swallows.

“You feeling up to a walk when I’ve had a shower?”

Stephen stretched lazily and nodded. He followed Ryan into the bathroom and perched on the edge of the bath, watching as his lover turned on the jets and reached for the shower gel. Stephen admired the long, clean lines of his lover’s body, from the strongly-tanned arms and shoulders down to the paler skin of his hips and buttocks, and on to the muscled thighs. Amidst a tangle of dark blond curls, Ryan’s cock was already starting to swell. He caught his lover’s eye, and ran his tongue suggestively around his lips. Ryan dropped a hand to his groin, lathering gel over himself in a manner that could only be described as provocative.

“No bringing yourself off,” directed Stephen, huskily. “Breakfast was a while ago, I need a few more calories before lunch.”

Ryan’s dick twitched at the words, and the soldier quickly finished washing off the sweat from his run then stepped out of the shower into the towel Stephen held out to him. Stephen slid off the edge of the bath to kneel on a fold of the towel at Ryan’s feet, leaning forward to nuzzle with his lips and tongue at Ryan’s erect cock. He closed his eyes and inhaled the citrus scent of the shower gel mixed with Ryan’s own unique musk.

“What about you?” Ryan tilted his head back and stared down at him, gentle enquiry in his eyes.

“I told you last night, I’m not worrying. This one’s for you, soldier boy.”

“The last two were for me, remember?”

“And it’ll be my turn soon enough, but there’s no point in flogging a dead horse in the meantime. It’ll happen when it happens and not before.” To prevent further discussion, Stephen wrapped his lips around the head of Ryan’s cock and started to suck, flicking at the ridge of skin on the underside with his tongue before teasing at the slit. Ryan let out a deep sigh of contentment and ran his hands gently through Stephen’s hair.

Stephen pulled back slightly and dropped his head to lick and kiss his way around Ryan’s balls, drawing first one, then the other into his mouth and sucking gently. Their earlier encounter in the shower had served to take the edge off his lover, leaving Stephen room to play, without precipitating an early climax. Memories of their first time together, in the Mitchells’ hotel in the Forest of Dean, filled Stephen’s mind. He’d gone down on Ryan then, as well. He bent his head forward, taking Ryan as far into his throat as the angle allowed, and then swallowing around him.

Ryan gasped, and started to thrust. Stephen relaxed the muscles of his throat, switching to breathing through his nose, letting Ryan fuck his mouth. He felt strong fingers running through his hair, and heard, with satisfaction, the small grunts of pleasure that were falling from his lover’s lips. The soldier’s movements remained gentle, and Stephen knew perfectly well that Ryan was holding himself in check. He reached round with his hands, running them over Ryan’s arse, pulling his cheeks apart and dipping into the cleft to play with his hole.

He loved fingering Ryan’s tight arse, working the tip of one finger inside and feeling Ryan’s puckered hole clench around him. The soldier’s next thrust into his mouth was a little less restrained, catching the back of Stephen’s throat and forcing him to stifle his gag reflex. Ryan was starting to pant now, his hands either side of Stephen’s face, stroking his hollowed cheeks and reaching down to grip Stephen’s shoulders.

Stephen continued to run the tips of his fingers over Ryan’s entrance, feeling the shivers the movements were sending up and down his lover’s body. Ryan was close now. He pulled back slightly, the weight of Ryan’s dick heavy on his tongue as he savoured the salty taste of pre-come. He glanced up. Ryan’s blue eyes were staring intently down at him. He grinned around his mouthful of cock, then sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks with the effort. Ryan gasped, his eyes closed and his hands tightened on Stephen’s shoulders.

Pressing his index finger back into his lover’s body, Stephen continued to suckle Ryan’s cock, swirling his tongue around the head at the same time. A second finger wormed its way inside the hot, tight channel, without the benefit of any lubrication. Ryan groaned and pressed back onto the probing fingers, impaling himself. His dick jerked between Stephen’s lips and come flooded his mouth. Even swallowing rapidly, Stephen couldn’t stop a small trail escaping, but then Ryan drew his softening cock out of his mouth and sank to his knees on the bathroom floor, taking Stephen in his arms and kissing him deeply.

Stephen opened his mouth to allow his lover to share the taste of his own bodily fluids. He’d started to shake slightly with the effort of remaining on his knees, but Ryan’s strong arms encircled him, and he relaxed against the other man’s chest and enjoyed Ryan’s lazy kisses.

“Bed.” Ryan breathed the word against his mouth and pulled him up from the floor. “You’re too big to carry unless it’s an emergency, Hart.”

Stephen allowed himself to be led back into the bedroom, and he settled down on the bed, his head on Ryan’s shoulder, and his arm looped around the other man’s waist, and in less than five minutes, he’d drifted off to sleep.

It took more than half an hour, but when he finally awoke, Stephen felt ready to brave the outside world. The sun was still shining, although a light breeze prevented the air from being too hot, and together, he and Ryan made their way down to the lake. Two gardeners were busy carefully clipping a line of bushes which flanked the lawn on either side and the grass looked like someone had gone over it with a pair of nail-scissors, but for all the neatness and formality, the grounds still had a pleasantly relaxed feel to them.

The two men walked hand in hand, and even when they passed another couple returning from a morning stroll, Stephen still felt surprisingly unselfconscious for once at the open display of affection between them, and began to wonder if he was finally managing to leave Helen’s legacy behind him - a shadow which had haunted him too long. His relationship with her had come at a time when he was young and insecure, both in himself and with his sexuality. Her dislike of any public, or even private, demonstration of feeling had been obvious from the very start and she had conditioned him to obedience all too quickly. Ryan had been determined to dismantle the barriers that he had built as a defence against Helen and her all too frequent rejections and he had been glad of the soldier’s perseverance.

His fingers tightened around Ryan’s and he pressed a kiss onto the other man’s cheek. Ryan stopped and drew him into his arms for a proper kiss. Stephen sighed with pleasure and slipped his arms round Ryan’s narrow waist. The walk had left him feeling slightly shaky, but he could see some seats nestling amidst the trees beside the water’s edge. He could make it that far.

The lake glittered in the mid-day sun, the gentle breeze raising small ripples on the surface of the water, while a heron stood amongst the reeds, as still as a statue. They sat down for a little while, long enough for Stephen’s feeling of weakness to pass, then a easy stroll around the whole lake circuit took them back to the hotel in time for lunch.

The dining room was in use by four other couples and another family with young children, but the waiting staff were as efficient as ever, and both men were soon enjoying a delicious smoked salmon salad, which even managed to stir Stephen’s diminished appetite into life for the first time since his illness.

It was early afternoon before they made their way back to the bedroom, and by then Stephen was happy to sprawl out, his head resting on Ryan’s shoulder while his lover read a book. He was enjoying the lack of pressure and the relaxed attitude, which seemed to be leading to an awful lot of guilt-free sleeping, which he guessed was what Ryan had in mind when he’d made the choice of venue.

They remained in a loose tangle of limbs, trading the occasional lazy kiss and caress. Ryan seemed to know instinctively how far Stephen wanted to go, and beyond that limit, he didn’t push. Stephen wasn’t overly bothered by his body’s lack of reaction. He’d been seriously ill, and Ditzy had made no bones about the fact that it would take him several weeks to return to anything resembling full health. He’d encountered something similar after a very bad bout of glandular fever as a student, and at least the stiffie he’d had this morning had been proof of the fact that everything was still in working order on the technical side of things.

“What’s on your mind now, sweetie?” murmured Ryan, stroking his hair.

Stephen laughed. “If you must know, I was thinking about my cock.”

Ryan gave a surprised chuckle. “Makes a change from thinking with your cock, Hart.”

A light punch in the stomach provide suitable retaliation, then Stephen found himself flipped over onto his back and pressed down into the mattress while Ryan captured his lips and proceeded to kiss him very thoroughly indeed. He wound his arms around his lover’s back and returned the kisses with enthusiasm.

When Ryan finally came up for air, he rolled off Stephen and drew him back to lie half over him, with his head on Ryan’s chest, and in was in that position that Stephen fell asleep again.

He came to gradually, still cradled in Ryan’s arms, and the slow rise and fall of his lover’s chest told him that he wasn’t the only one who’d fallen asleep. He slid his hand down Ryan’s body, bringing it to rest on the bulge in his jeans. Ryan wiffled slightly in his sleep but didn’t stir when Stephen undid his belt, flipped open the top button and gently slid the zip down to enable him to slip his hand inside.

Ryan’s cock was soft under his fingers, making Stephen wonder if he could bring his lover to full hardness without waking him up. It would prove an interesting experiment. His fingers tightened their grip, and he felt a slight stirring under his hand. He smiled and started to stroke. His lover’s dick continued to swell, but Ryan’s breathing remained deep and even. Stephen managed to free him from the confines of his underwear and continued the slow, steady movements of his fingers. The soldier shifted slightly in his sleep, turning more towards Stephen, as though unconsciously seeking more contact.

Stephen watched, rapt, as a small bead of pre-come formed at the tip of Ryan’s cock, glistening in the afternoon sunlight which was slanting in through the balcony windows. He caught it on the end of his finger and rubbed it lightly around the now completely swollen head before bringing his finger to his own lips and enjoying his lover’s taste. He moistened his own finger and transferred that down to Ryan, widening the small circles each time until he was running his fingers around the whole of the head, tracing the ridge, then tracking down the taut ridge of skin and following the large vein on the underside down to his lover’s balls. Ryan made a small noise in his throat, but didn’t wake up.

Enjoying the feel of the silky smooth skin under his fingertips, Stephen continued to work Ryan’s cock with teasing gentleness, never tiring of the feel of his lover’s flesh in his hand. He could feel a faint stirring again in his own groin, and he hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he was well enough to come to full hardness. Pleasuring his lover with hands and mouth was enjoyable, but he also wanted to be able to bury more than his fingers in Ryan’s tight arse.

More fluid started to leak from Ryan’s hard cock and Stephen used it to ease the passage of his hand, each stroke become tighter and more forceful. Ryan’s breathing was shallower now, but he still wasn’t fully awake. His hips followed the movements of Stephen’s hand, and his lips opened in a low moan as his eyelids fluttered for the first time.

Stephen wriggled quickly down the bed, ready to catch the thick ropes of come which spurted from the soldier’s cock in his mouth. One more slide of his hand was all that was needed, and Ryan’s third climax of the day hit him at the moment he came fully awake.

“That was a helluva wet dream, darling,” commented Ryan, his voice husky with sleep and sex.

Stephen planted a warm kiss on his lover’s lips. “Third time pays for all, sweetheart. You can make it up to me when I’m back in working order.”

And as he cuddled up close to his lover and held him while the final tremors of orgasm ran through Ryan’s body, Stephen hoped that day wouldn’t take too long to arrive.


	3. Chapter 3

After three days at Rookery Hall, Ryan was pleased to see the colour returning properly to Stephen’s complexion. The pasty look had finally succumbed to the combined assault of good food, plenty of rest and gentle exercise. Stephen could now walk twice around the lake without needing to sit down, and he could now even swim several lengths of the hotel pool quite happily afterwards.

He hadn’t quite worked his way up to a full cooked breakfast yet, but he was getting there and was now filching more than the occasional sausage and mushroom from Ryan’s plate. As a result, the waitress had started to bring him slightly more than he had actually ordered, in the interests of domestic harmony, a move which Ryan thoroughly approved of.

Only one thing remained which was giving Ryan any cause for concern, and much as Stephen tried to make light of it, the soldier knew that his inability to attain a full erection was starting to become a matter of frustration. Stephen always carefully steered the conversation away from the subject, saying it would happen when it happened, and there was nothing to worry about, but it didn’t take a highly trained Special Forces captain to spot the anxiety lurking in the gentian blue of Stephen’s eyes.

Ryan had gone back to his usual holiday routine of waking early and taking himself off for a run, before returning for a shower before breakfast. This morning, he tucked his mobile phone into the pocket of his running shorts, and as soon he was out of sight of the hall, he slowed to a walk and punched in a number from memory.

The phone was answered within half a dozen rings. “Owen. Ryan, mate, how’s it going? Stephen OK?”

“Improving,” said Ryan. “How’s tricks, Ditz?”

“Bloody quiet,” replied the medic. “Fortunate, really, as half the squad’s gone down with bad guts from a dodgy curry at the weekend. I spent Monday up to my armpits in shit samples, and by Tuesday, Environmental Health had found most of an Alsatian in their freezer.”

“You serious?”

Ditzy laughed. “Sure am. You should have seen Finn’s face. He says it’s put him off meat jalfrezi for life.”

“What about you?”

“I didn’t make it. I was patching up Temple after a minor altercation with something small and furry.”

“It bit him?”

“No, he tripped over the sodding thing and fell down two flights of stairs in an office block. Fortunately the place was deserted. Took all bleeding afternoon to round the rest of the little bastards up, though. Claudia tried to pass us all off as Pest Control.”

“Did it work?”

“Did it hell as like.” After a moment’s hesitation, Ditzy tackled him head on, in his usual blunt way. “What’s the matter, mate? Can Stephen still not get it up?”

Ryan gaped for a moment like a stranded carp then put two and two together. “He’s phoned you?”

“Yep. This time yesterday, while you were out running, which is where I presume you are now. I’ll tell you what I told him, boss. Relax. He gets a hard-on in the morning so there’s nothing wrong with him physically.” Ditzy chuckled, and added, “And he still fancies the pants off you.”

Ryan felt an unaccustomed blush creeping up his cheeks, remembering the number of different ways Stephen had found to bring him off in the last few days. He wondered quite how much detail Stephen had gone into when he’d been tapping the medic for advice.

“Have you tried penetrative sex?”

The question hit Ryan with all the subtlety of a brick and his cheeks flamed as red at the rhododendron flowers on a nearby bush. “I didn’t want to push things while he was still recovering.”

“If he can go for an hour’s walk followed by a swim, he’s recovered enough for a shag. Stop pussyfooting around him, Ryan. He won’t break.”

“But …”

“But nothing.” Ditzy’s voice was amused, but firm. “Remember the words of the song? Cats on the Rooftops …”

Ryan grinned. He ought to. Finn knew more verses to it than anyone else in the regiment. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well stop treating the guy like he’s made of glass. Without wishing to sound crude, boss, fuck him so hard he can’t sit down. Get enough pressure in the right place and I reckon you’ll find it works wonders.”

“Trust you, you’re a medic?”

“Something like that,” Ditzy laughed. “I’m not usually wrong, am I?”

“Ditz, to be fair, I don’t usually take advice on my sex life from you.”

“Ryan, you know me. I never prescribe anything which doesn’t mix with alcohol, and I never lie. So stop fretting and go and shag your gorgeous boyfriend. He wants you to. He’s just not very good at asking for what he wants.”

“Ain’t that the bloody truth,” muttered Ryan ruefully. And for the thousandth time, he cursed Cutter’s wife and the effect she’d had on Stephen. Oh yes, his lover could be a pushy little sod at times when he wanted something kinky, but when it came to straightforward displays of affection, and more normal bedtime pleasures, Stephen was still more repressed than he even knew himself. “Thanks, mate. I owe you one.”

“I’ll add it to your slate.” And with that, Ditzy disconnected the call, leaving Ryan staring thoughtfully out over the lake.

Stephen was already up when Ryan returned to the bedroom, and if he noticed Ryan take the phone out of his pocket, he made no reference to it. However, a loud rumble from Stephen’s stomach put paid to any ideas Ryan might have entertained of dragging his lover back to bed after he’d finished his shower.

Breakfast was its usual leisurely affair, and bacon, eggs, mushrooms and sausage were wolfed down with evident appreciation. On this occasion, Stephen even managed to demolish three rounds of toast and two pieces of freshly-made soda bread, then they followed the routine they had established over the last two days, picking up a selection of papers from reception and reading them in the lounge, over a second cup of coffee.

Their walk around the lake came afterwards, with Stephen muttering he’d eaten too much, but still looking wholly unrepentant. On this occasion, they ramped up their exercise levels to a third circuit, before grabbing their swimming trunks and towels, and heading down to the pool.

Fortunately for Ryan’s modesty, they had the pool to themselves, as the sight of Stephen’s lean body powering cleanly through the water was enough to give him a hard-on all by itself. Then his lover promptly made matters worse by snaking up to him for a wet kiss, rubbing his hardening nipples against Ryan’s chest and dropping a hand underneath the water to squeeze playfully at his groin.

Ryan growled low in his throat and made a grab for Stephen’s hips. The younger man evaded his grasp, wriggling away like an eel and diving down underwater. Ryan followed, but he couldn’t match Stephen’s prowess in the water. The pair of them finally surfaced, treading water in the deep end, gasping and laughing. Stephen’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief, making Ryan’s cock harden again. A moment later, he groaned at the sound of children’s voices approaching the poolside.

“Remind me to make a donation to the Friends of Herod,” he murmured, sucking lightly on Stephen’s earlobe, before turning to swim down the length of the pool, hoping his erection would be gone by the time he came to leave the water.

It was, but it soon came back on the walk up to the bedroom as a result of a number of sly caresses from his lover. Ryan fumbled with the key in the lock as Stephen’s hands slid around his waist, brushing over his groin. The sound of a door opening further down the corridor put paid to any further activity outside the bedroom, and the pair of them stumbled into the room, laughing.

Once inside, Ryan pressed Stephen back against the thick, wooden door, running his hands over his lover’s chest, pleased to note that his ribs were no longer as prominent as they had been when he’d been discharged from hospital. Stephen’s nipples turned pebble-hard immediately and Ryan lost no time in dragging the long-sleeved tee-shirt off over his head and bending down to tease them with his lips and tongue. Stephen arched into his touch as he tugged at Ryan’s own top, sending it to land unceremoniously on the floor.

Ryan held Stephen pinned firmly against the door and continued to suck hard on one nipple while he rolled the other firmly between finger and thumb. Stephen was always particularly responsive to having his nipples played with, and in no time at all, he was writhing silently under Ryan’s ministrations. It usually took a bit more than this to turn him vocal, and the small part of Ryan’s brain which wasn’t concentrating on the man in his arms spent a moment cursing Helen Cutter. She’d preferred her men quiet and undemonstrative, and had apparently withdrawn her attentions when the men in her life had the temerity to vocalise their pleasure too much.

The soldier kept his hands on Stephen’s slim waist, teasing at a nipple with both tongue and teeth. A small whine fell from his lover’s lips - the first sound he’d made since they’d entered the bedroom. Ryan smiled and rewarded him with a slightly harder nip. He felt Stephen’s hips grinding against his own erection, but on this occasion he had a very definite goal in mind and wouldn’t let himself get distracted.

He stepped back and favoured Stephen with a lazy smile. “Strip, Hart.”

Stephen tilted his head, a speculative look in his blue eyes, then he toed off his trainers and started to slowly and provocatively undo his belt, slide down the zipper and shimmy gracefully out of his jeans. Ryan noted with amusement that the little bugger had reverted to his old habits and dispensed with the need for underwear.

“Like what you see, soldier boy?”

Ryan nodded, running his tongue over suddenly dry lips. “Lie on the bed and carry on playing with your nipples.”

Stephen grinned and did as he’d been told, spreading his legs slightly for effect. Ryan made no comment on the fact that the activity appeared to be having little or no effect on the state of Stephen’s dick. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm a sudden attack of nerves and started to shed his clothes.

The sight of Stephen lying in a graceful sprawl on the rumpled bed was enough to make Ryan’s own cock stand to attention without any difficulty, but he ignored it in favour of rummaging through one of their cases for a tube of lubricant. A slow smile spread across Stephen’s face as he continued to pinch at his own nipples.

Ryan crossed over to the bed in three quick strides and leaned down to lave each of the pink nubs with his tongue, leaving them glistening with saliva. His breath ghosted over each of them in turn, drawing another small noise from Stephen. It was rewarded with another nip to each, making Stephen squirm and try to hold Ryan’s mouth in place.

“No, you don’t,” said Ryan with a grin, pulling back and swatting lightly at Stephen’s hands. “You can just bloody well lie there and do nothing for a change. You’re meant to be convalescing, remember?”

Stephen pouted, but the anticipation warming his long-lashed blue eyes rather ruined the effect. Ryan knelt on the bed between his legs and grabbed a pillow. “Stick that under your hips.” As an afterthought, he disengaged himself for a moment and went in search of a dry towel to cover the pillow, muttering that he didn’t want to end up having to apologise to the cleaning staff. Ryan then settled Stephen’s legs across his thighs and pushed them back and up, exposing his arse to view. Ryan shuffled backwards and leaned down, licking a wet stripe over Stephen’s puckered hole. A breathy gasp greeted that action. This was always a good way of breaking through Stephen’s reticence.

Ryan’s tongue traced round the edges of the darker skin, then widened his area of activity to nuzzle and nip at the backs of Stephen’s thighs before returning to pay particular attention to the one spot guaranteed to get his lover moaning and writing. He pushed his tongue into the tight ring of muscle and was rewarded with another gasp. Sitting back on his heels, he quickly coated the tip of one finger with the cool gel and massaged it around Stephen’s entrance.

His lover’s cock had swelled slightly, but no stretch of the imagination could have described it as hard. Ryan ignored that and pressed the tip of his finger into Stephen’s tight channel, smearing the lubricant around liberally. Stephen pushed back, wanting more.

“You’ll get more when I decide to give you more, Hart” said Ryan, planting a light kiss on the other man’s stomach. “You can carry on playing with your nipples, but no touching yourself anywhere else, or you’ll be in trouble.” He knew perfectly well that the minute he told Stephen he couldn’t do something, the other man would immediately want to do exactly the opposite. His theory was prompt confirmed by a whine and a wriggle. He laughed, and swatted Stephen’s backside hard enough to sting.

It had been weeks since they’d had full sex and Stephen felt even tighter than usual. His initial response was to want to work his lover open, slowly and carefully, but one look at the hungry expression on the other man’s face decided him against that. He intended to follow Ditzy’s advice and he just hoped the medic had judged the situation correctly. He slicked his cock, but kept the application of lubricant to a reasonable minimum. This was Stephen, after all, and Ryan was very well aware of the fact that he liked the spice of pain with his pleasure, although it went against the grain at the moment after several weeks of nursing his lover back to health.

He pushed the head of his cock against Stephen’s hole, knowing perfectly well that there would definitely be more than the usual degree of stretch and burn. Stephen let out a low moan of pleasure and reached for his own cock out of habit.

“What did I tell you?” said Ryan, slapping his hand away. “Your cock’s out of bounds, Hart.”

Abruptly, the ring of muscle gave way, and his cock slid into Stephen’s body, to the accompaniment of a gasp. Without giving Stephen time to adjust to the intrusion, Ryan pressed forward, angling himself deliberately at his lover’s prostate, mindful of Ditzy’s advice. Stephen gasped again, and his cock gave a very definite twitch.

Ryan pulled back slowly then repeated the movement at exactly the same angle. Stephen’s eyes fell shut and he tried to push up to meet Ryan’s strokes. Ryan gripped his hips firmly, limiting his movement, and started to thrust, raking his prostate with every pass. He wasn’t normally able to subject Stephen to this much direct stimulation without causing actual pain, but Ditzy had been fairly specific in his advice and on this occasion Ryan intended to follow it to the letter.

He withdrew, watching his cock slide out of Stephen’s body, and leaned forward for a kiss. “How did that feel?”

“Fucking great,” breathed Stephen, staring down at his now half-hard cock. “Looks like it might be working, as well.”

Ryan chuckled. “Well I am acting on medical advice.” He leaned back and started to press in again. His dick slipped in easier this time and he watched as his thick, hard shaft proceeded to open Stephen up, slowly and inexorably, until he was balls-deep in the other man’s body.

Stephen’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Christ, I’ve missed this.”

Ryan drew back, then slammed in hard. Stephen’s cock jumped and continued to harden. That was all the encouragement Ryan needed. Keeping his thrusts controlled and carefully angled, he proceeded to drive himself over and over into Stephen’s unresisting body until his lover’s dick was fully hard, bouncing against his belly in time with Ryan’s thrusts.

Stephen’s face was screwed up in concentration, his eyelashes looking even darker than usual against the still-pale cheeks, but at least now his eyes had lost the bruised, sunken look that had so haunted Ryan during the worst of the illness. The soldier was finding it surprisingly easy to hold himself in check, concentrating on his lover’s pleasure rather than his own. Stephen’s own reserve was in tatters by now. He had both hands clenched hard around the bedcovers, and he was straining back against Ryan’s thrusts, trying to take him in ever more deeply. Ryan made a quick adjustment to their position, pulling Stephen’s thighs further up and folding his legs back towards his chest, as he leaned forward, weight on his own hands, for maximum penetration.

Stephen was panting now, the breath being driven out of his lungs with each hard thrust of Ryan’s hips. A small snail-trail of pre-come was glistening on his belly. Ryan balanced his weight on one arm and stopped his movements for a moment as he pulled out far enough to reach down and lick Stephen’s stomach clean, giving the head of his cock a teasing flick of his tongue in passing. Much to Ryan’s amusement, Stephen yelped and wriggled, his eyes flying open.

Ryan steadied himself and thrust back in hard, burying himself up to his balls on every stroke. Stephen’s eyes locked with his, the pupils dilated so far that they appeared almost black, framed only by a small halo of blue. He knew Stephen was close to coming now. Quiet gasps and whines were falling from his lips and his expression had taken on a pleading look. His cock was fully engorged now, hard and leaking, but Ryan needed both hands to steady himself against the force of the pounding he was giving his lover’s pliant body.

He could almost taste Stephen’s arousal as sweat slicked the lean body straining underneath him. His own pleasure was mounting with every stroke, but he was still managing to hold himself in check. Another slight adjustment to position, and he was again nudging directly against that small, hard nub. Stephen was mewling now, making those small, kitten-like noises that never failed to melt Ryan’s heart.

Another thrust, another whine of pleasure. Stephen’s eyes were closed again, his face slack with pleasure, open and unshielded, nothing held back, nothing denied. Ryan pulled back all the way out, waiting for Stephen’s hole to close up, then in one, long, hard stroke, he drove in again, with unerring accuracy.

Stephen cried out under him, ribbons of come shooting over his stomach and chest as his arse spasmed tightly around Ryan’s cock. Ryan continued to pound into his lover’s body, chasing his own orgasm now, angling away from Stephen’s prostate so he didn’t tip pleasure over into pain. It only took another few strokes and he was there, shooting his own load deep inside Stephen’s straining body, his hands sliding through the sweat on the lean body underneath him. He felt the tremors coursing through the still-weak muscles as his lover shuddered and Ryan gave himself up mindlessly to his own climax.

Minutes later, he pulled out and flopped down next to Stephen, pulling him into his arms and feathering kisses on any part of the sweat-slick body he could reach, holding Stephen tightly while the final tremors of a bone-deep orgasm ran through him. Eventually, Ryan stirred enough to slide down the bed and begin the cleanup operation, his tongue lapping at the spreading pool of come on his lover’s lean belly. Another small, kitten noise greeted his actions, and Stephen ran his hands through Ryan’s short hair.

“Did you phone Ditzy for advice?” Stephen breathed, wriggling slightly and pulling the pillow out from under his hips.

“Yeah, same as you did.”

Stephen laughed. “So much for patient confidentiality. He told me to stop worrying.”

“He told me to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to sit down afterwards.”

“Better than ringing NHS Direct,” Stephen conceded.

Ryan grinned and sucked Stephen’s soft cock into his mouth, while reaching behind to play with his wet, well-fucked hole. He could feel his come leaking out of his lover’s body and trailed his fingers through the mixture of semen and lube, drawing another low moan from Stephen. He dipped his fingers inside, meeting no resistance at all. A small, post-orgasmic contraction rippled through Stephen’s body. Ryan crooked his fingers, searching for, and finding, Stephen’s prostate.

“You’ll be lucky,” Stephen murmured, but the small movement of his cock in Ryan’s mouth gave the lie to his words.

Ryan continued to massage gently at the same spot, whilst sucking gently at his lover’s dick. He felt another contraction around his fingers and another twitch of the now only partially flaccid cock in his mouth. If he could get Stephen hard again so soon, they’d both have ample evidence that he was well on the way to a full recovery.

“Christ, Ryan, I don’t think the sight of you sucking my dick will ever get old,” breathed Stephen.

The soldier looked up, grinning around his mouthful, and pulled back enough to comment, “Good, because I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of doing it.”

Stephen was almost at full hardness again, and Ryan knew he’d be able to take his time now. They’d both taken the edge off their hunger, and that was what mattered. It had been a hard, fast fuck, exactly what Ditzy had ordered, but now Ryan wanted to take his time, and bring Stephen off slowly and gently, with hands and tongue, working him up to another climax, this time in the warmth of Ryan’s mouth.

He could smell the musk of Stephen’s arousal, and feel the quivering in his thighs as sensation started to build inside him again. He slipped a third finger into the hot depths of his body at the same time as he started to deep-throat him. Stephen moaned, his hands clutching hard at Ryan’s shoulders. The soldier continued his slow finger-fucking, pulling out occasionally to tease at his lover’s balls, feeling them draw up and tighten under his touch. Stephen was breathing hard now, his fingers tightening on Ryan’s flesh, hard enough to bruise. Ryan dipped back into his body again, still stroking and teasing. A moan fell from Stephen’s lips that wouldn’t have been out of place in one of Finn’s favourite porn movies. Ditzy had been right, direct stimulation of his lover’s prostate was working wonders.

Stephen cried out and his hips bucked in Ryan’s grasp. A moment later, a spurt of semen hit the back of Ryan’s throat. He swallowed around Stephen’s cock, feeling the contractions against his fingers as his lover reached his second shuddering climax.

Ryan continued to swallow, taking every drop that Stephen had to give, as the last remaining vestiges of tension left his own mind and body for the first time in several long weeks. Warmth pooled in his belly, and to his surprise, he came, in a sudden release of adrenaline, as pleasurable as it was unexpected.

Stephen laughed, and pulled Ryan up into a kiss. “Good job you fetched that towel, soldier boy. What would you do if I said I felt a relapse coming on?”

“I’d tell Lester you needed to spend at least another week here.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” said Stephen, resting his head on Ryan’s chest, with a deep sigh of contentment.

Ryan pressed a kiss onto Stephen’s lips, and breathed, “Love you.”

Stephen returned the kiss. “Love you, too.”

Ryan wrapped his arms around his lover and relaxed in the grip the absurdly large bed. If they played their cards right, they could probably manage to swing the rest of the week at Rookery Hall, after all.


End file.
